


you deserve the moon.

by allthelostsouls



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Longing, idk it’s just a mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-07-07 23:54:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19860124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allthelostsouls/pseuds/allthelostsouls
Summary: Bucky is gone on a mission, and thirty days feels like a lifetime.





	you deserve the moon.

**Author's Note:**

> so, this is supposed to be the sequel to [you deserve the sky](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19387861). a lot of angst and longing, i guess. little bit unedited, my apologies. also, the song that helped me finish both stories was [angels by the xx](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fyoutu.be%2F_nW5AF0m9Zw&t=MDU0ODExZmQ1ODJmYTExNjYwOWU5MDQwYTY5NzI3NjhiNGY0MjRiMSxiM2JkOTY3YjEyNDBlYWUzOGVjNTEwNjA5YmU5ZDI2NGFlZDZjZjdk), and i highly recommend.

~ ✭ ~

Everything _stops_ when Bucky takes off. 

It almost feels like the whole world stops spinning; there’s no wind, there’s no movement, there’s no sound, there’s no heartbeat. 

The days are long and dull. Everyday activities suddenly seem to take too much effort to get done; simple things like going out with friends, eating, sleeping, sometimes even getting out of bed. It’s been a while since she’s felt this kind of _depression_. There’s really no other word for it. Longing, perhaps? Sadness? Misery? Worry? They all apply, probably. There’s just a hole in her chest that hasn’t been there before and she doesn’t know what to do with it—how to get rid of it. 

She practically drags her feet all the way to her desk when she gets to work that morning. Bucky’s been gone for almost a month now and she can’t really recall anything about that time other than staring at her phone in case he’d call (he never did), reading the news like a mad person looking for his name in the articles, and maybe having an extra glass of wine with dinner to help her sleep. 

It’s Wednesday. Nothing really special about a damn Wednesday, she only needs to survive two and a half more days until the weekend. But by the migraine she’s been fighting with for the last few hours, she might have to give up and hide in the darkness of her apartment a few days early. 

A deep sigh, and she’s on her way to Tony’s office to get his signatures. She sees the same people walking by, she drinks the same coffee as she’s always had, sometimes she takes the stairs instead of the elevator to kill time but nothing else really changes. Nothing except the lack of blue eyes waiting for her by the elevator at the end of the day, and the knock at her door always followed by a boyish grin, and the warmth of his body in the morning when she snoozes her alarm one, two, three times because cuddles sound a lot better than a shower. 

“Mr. Stark,” she announces herself from the door, with her best attempt of a smile. She plays with the pages in her folder looking for the ones he needs to sign and extends the paperwork to him, who takes it quietly and follows along the small tags, his hand moving quickly. There’s no small talk today. There’s only been a handful days like these in the years she’s been working for him. She knows better than to ask. If there’s something she can help with, he’d say so. He only raises his eyes to her once he’s done with the papers and it’s handing them back to her. “Thank you.”

“Thank _you_ , darling,” he swallows, running a hand through his hair. “How are you holding up?”

She could lie. She really could. But her lips shake as hard as her hands do when she sees the legitimate concern in his eyes. So she finally admits out loud, “I feel numb. I’m not happy but I’m not entirely sad. It feels like I’m on stand-by, like I’m just _waiting_.”

“He’ll be back soon,” Tony promises. “In the meantime, I hope, you get some comfort in the company of another hundred-and-so year old capsicle.”

“Steve is back?”

“He will be, in about twenty minutes or so. I have given you all the clearance you’ll need. You can see him before he even gets off the jet if you’d like.” 

“Thank you,” she mumbles and this is the first time in days that she feels a small spark of joy. She smiles at Tony and this time is a real one, which makes Tony smile back just the same. “Thank you.”

She practically runs out of the office. 

~ ✭ ~

It’s the first time in weeks that time seems to fly by and she’s thankful for it.

One second she’s with Tony at his office and then she’s at the terminal, pacing around, with her sunglasses on to try to manage the pain behind her eyes, waiting for the jet. 

When it does come, her entire body is aching so much, she can’t stop moving. She keeps switching her weight from one leg to the other and playing with her fingers. It’s so bad that the agent that’s with her even offers her a reassuring smile, telling her that it’s okay.

Steve straightens up and practically runs towards her once he sees her. She doesn’t move and he knows she’s having too much of a hard time coordinating her movements to try to walk. So he’s the one that steps into her space and brings her into a tight hug. He doesn’t realize how much he needed it himself until he’s smelling the faint scent of lavender coming from her hair. 

“I’m sorry it’s me here with you and not him.”

“Don’t,” she shakes her head twice. “It’s always good to see you. I’m glad you’re okay.”

He nods once, his lips so tight they almost form a perfect straight line and she knows it’s not good news. “I think there’s something you should see.”

~ ✭ ~

Back at her office, Steve is holding the pictures of the on-going mission report Bucky is working on. The space suddenly seems so small with him there, and it makes her think of all the times Bucky would show up right on time for her lunch break and sit on her desk until she’d be forced to give him all of her attention. The light is bright still, and Steve only have to take a look at the giant bottle of aspirin next to her phone and how she shields her eyes from the sunlight even though her sunglasses are still on to feel his chest get heavier and heavier. He closes the shades for her and she sighs in relief—she should’ve done that hours ago, honestly. 

They sit across from each other and she’s the first to speak. A desperate, “Out with it, Steve.”

He almost smiles. _Almost_. And she dares to hope. 

“Alright then,” Steve starts, places the first set of folders on the desk, facing her. “These are for the missions I’ve been off to last few weeks.”

She goes through the pages lazily, her uncouncious looking for the one and only name she cares about at the moment. It’s nowhere to be found so she pushes the files to the growing pile at the right side of her desk. She stares at Steve, expectnat. 

“This is the one for the mission I just came back from,” he mumbles, placing the papers the same way as before. He only picks at her insteres when he says, “Bucky was supposed to come with me to this mission. Nothing in the plan really changed; not the location, the target, or the place where we’ll lay low and wait to be extracted. Bucky knew this. And he sent someone with his own paperwork.”

It takes a few seconds to be able to open the new folder in front of her. And Steve gives her all the time she needs. Once she finally does, her face turns away and her hands rush to cover the picture that jumps at her. She breathes hard, and very slowly moves her shaking hands away to see the picture properly one more time. It’s Bucky; there are cuts on his face and arms, his expression is hard and cold. There’s pictures of the wounds from all angles, the stamp of the time and date shine in a yellowish ink at the bottom right. 

She snorts, tries her best to clean the tears away from her face and leans back on her chair. She thinks she can control it but she doesn’t. She actually looses it for a few seconds, but somehow she’s able to calm her breathing down, quiet the sobbing, and stop a proper panic attack. She swallows her heart back into place and tries her best to slow down the tears as much as possible. 

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” he speaks when he thinks appropriate. “I know it must’ve been hard.”

She shrugs, and Steve’s hearts breaks at how hard it is for her to speak then, at how broken her voice sounds, “I was bound to see it sooner or later. Perks of being the paperwork girl.”

“I have another mission I’m off to this afternoon,” Steve says, his sweet voice is slower than usual, as if he’s expecting her to catch something around the edges. 

“More paperwork. Yay.”

“I’m meeting him to take down the last base,” he continues, “With the paperwork, he also sent me a letter.”

Her eyes come back to live as he pulls the envelope from his back. She watches his hands carefully then, following every motion. “Inside the letter,” he continues, finishing for something in the envelope. His movements are so slow, she almost thinks he’s just playing with her. Taunting her. But she also knows Steve is better than that, it must be the migraine talking. “There’s something meant for you.”

Steve hands her a postcard with the city skyline. She can see the white lines in the picture where it’s been folded two, three, a hundred times. She looks at the sun shining throw the buildings and then she turns it around to find his handwriting. The message is quick and simple and it means everything;

_you deserve the moon x_

She stares at the envelope and holds it in her hands so carefully by the corners as if it’d disintegrate if she’s too rough with it. As if the words would fade away once they’ve been seen. Another sigh to hold back the new wave of tears and before she’s able to stop herself, she’s pressing the card against her chest, holding it close to her heart. 

“Thank you.”

“Of course,” Steve replies, his voice just as low as hers. “I’m sorry it took so long to get to you.”

She shakes her head quickly, thanking him again, and her voice’s still shaking when she asks, “Is he okay?”

“He misses you. He’s tired of the rain and he’s ready to come home; I’m hoping I can help him do that.”

She nods, giving Steve a sincere smile.

“I’m here for a few more hours if maybe you’d like to reply to his letter. I think—I think he’d really like that.”

~ ✭ ~

She decides there’s too many clocks everywhere. 

A few minutes after Steve leaves her office, she leaves too. There are clocks scattered along the hallways, inside the elevators, on top of the front desk in the building over, in the locker rooms. She steps into the shooting range, hoping to get some clarity, or maybe just to get her mind off a few things. 

It does not work at all. 

She empties her third round and loads the fourth. She raises her gun to the same spot the rest of the bullets have hit but there’s no point. What’s the point? What the hell is she even doing there? She should be writing a letter. But what would she say that he didn’t already know?

The clock mocks her a few inches up from the black silluete she’s been using as a target that’s hanging at the end of the room, and she doesn’t hesitate to shoot it down.

Theres just too many fucking clocks everywhere. 

~ ✭ ~

On her way back to her office, she runs into Shuri. 

“Hey, princess.”

“Why do you look like someone took a piss on your beer?” Shuri jokes, her accent thick. 

She simply extends the postacard towards her and the goofy smile falls off her face once she recognizes Bucky’s handwriting. 

“I’m supposed to be writing something back,” she confesses, both of them walking slowly back towards her office. “I’ve been thinking about it in my head, but I just end up rambling nonsense. It’s a mess. I’m a mess. I just—I guess I just don’t really know what to say.” 

“Well, what’s the most important thing for him to know?”

“That I love him,” she replies right away, like there’s nothing else in the world that he needs to know. And there really isn’t. “That he needs to stay safe and come home to me.”

“He already knows that,” Shuri assures her. “Is there anything else you think he’d like to hear? Something that’d make him happy? That would make him feel calm, knowing you’re okay?”

“I don’t know. That I finally lost those five pounds and gained them right back? Maybe that I got back to practice playing the guitar. Been reading a lot, and I’m learning French? I guess—I guess I’ve just been trying to keep busy. When I’m not trying hard to distract myself, I’m looking for stories about him. I’ve seen him on the news a couple of times.”

“He needs a haircut,” Shuri points out. 

“God, yes, he does,” she chuckles. And after a second, her face hardens when she adds, “I also wonder how he’s doing with his nightmares, if he’s had any and if he’s able to go back to sleep after he’s had them.”

They stop walking once they finally reach her office, she turns around to find Shuri hiding her hands behind her back and a shy smile. 

“Sounds like you know to say.”

“It just feels so silly when I write it down. Like I should be saying something more important.”

“He’d be happy to hear whatever you have to say, no matter what it is. He’d like to see you even more, _so_ I might’ve recorded you,” Shuri smiles softly, almost embarrassed, her hands coming to the front. A small and shiny square is coming out from one of the vibranium pebbles in her wrist, and once she focus her sight, she can see herself in there. Shuri pushes down on it and the light disappears, and soon enough, she’s placing the small device on her open palm. “So you can get this to the Captain, and Bucky will know what to do.”

The next thing she does, is hug Shuri as tight as she possible can. 

~ ✭ ~

Steve’s more than happy to stretch his legs out as the jet arrives. He makes sure to move as many muscles as he can, and by the time he’s done, the door is opening with a _gushhh_ sound that he’s more than familiar with. 

A few steps down and his hand flies to cover his eyes from the sun’s reflection coming out of Bucky’s arm. He hears his best friend laugh because of it and Steve’s heart feels light. His whole body relaxes when Bucky wraps his arms around him.

“Good to see you, pal.”

“You too,” Bucky pats his back, hiding a smile on Steve’s shoulder. “Thank you for being here.”

“I promised you I would.”

~ ✭ ~

The hideout spot isn’t the worst that Steve has ever stayed at. It’s small but fairly clean, and it smells like Bucky, so really, it’s not bad at all. After they’ve had some food, Bucky lays out some blueprints and pictures on top of the table and tells Steve everything he needs to know about the facility and its security. He knows Steve read his on-going mission report probably twice so they get on the same page effortlessly. Steve doesn’t really interfiere much, it’s Bucky’s plan—he calls the shots. He only agrees and points out things that might be helpful for the whole thing to go down the right way the next day. 

Later, when the world grows quiet and they’re laying down on the small mattress in the middle of the livingroom floor just looking up at the ceiling, Steve thinks it’s the right moment. So, without a word, he gets the small vibranium pebble from his pocket and offers it to Bucky. 

He plays with it with his fingers and he’s not sure he wants to see what’s in it. But the idea that he might be able to hear her voice or maybe get a quick peek at her face, has him pressing down on the pebble to get the small screen to pop up. Steve’s the one that’s taken aback by it, though. And for a second he feels like he shouldn’t be there, like this is a message for Bucky and he might be intruding. But then his best friend is looking at him, with fear dancing in the corner his eyes, and he knows there’s nowhere else he needs to be. A short smile from Steve, and Bucky sighs as he lets the video play. 

There’s a solid two seconds of blur and then the camera focus on her back. Bucky recognizes her immediately, his heart’s stuttering in his chest. Then he hears Shuri’s voice asking her _what’s the most important thing for him to know?_ He sees her body tense and her hands fly up in exasperation. _That I love him_ , the recording says immediately after, and Bucky’s chest expands. He lets out a shaky breath and they both watch the rest of the video quietly. 

~ ✭ ~

Later, much later, long after Steve has fallen asleep, Bucky’s sitting down on the bathroom floor, the video playing on a loop. 

~ ✭ ~

The hit in his head is unexpected. His body locks down, waiting for the next one but Steve is already there, grabbing the guy’s neck and slamming his body so hard against the floor, the wind and the light leaves him all at once. Then he’s on Bucky’s space; his hands on his arms helping him sit, his eyes focused on the discomfort on his face, his voice whispering he’s okay, and _it’s okay, Buck, we can take a minute_. 

In that minute, Bucky’s vision blurs and his head suddenly feels like it’s underwater. Steve’s face mixes with a memory and he fights hard to stay in that moment with him, but another moment takes over his mind then. He can’t do nothing but relive it. 

He feels anger. The silly kind—the annoying kind. He’s mad at Stark for being so uptight and getting on his case about finishing his paperwork. It’s not like he wasn’t going to do it, he was. Eventually. So Tony decides to ask FRIDAY to remind Bucky about it every fifteen minutes. Of course, that is encouragement enough for Bucky to spend the next two hours of his life finishing all the cases he needed to finish, and make his way to Tony’s office, debating if he can slam Tony’s face against his desk to wipe off the smug smile he already knows he’ll have as soon as he steps into his office. 

He sees his hands holding the paperwork, his boots stumping in the ground, he hears FRIDAY’s soft voice giving him the last reminder and then he hears his own voice asking the AI to kindly _fuck off_. He doesn’t knock on the door, he just pushes it open with a grunt. He stops dead in his tracks when he finds someone else at the office. He has definitely never seen her before, he would’ve remembered otherwise. She turns quickly, her hand flying to her chest and he apologizes for scaring her.

“Sergeant Barnes,” she greets quietly, her hands tightening on the folders in her hand then. 

“It’s just Bucky.”

“It is perfect timing,” Tony interferes. “She’s on my ass about paperwork so I had to get on your ass about paperwork. If you want to hurt anybody, you’d have to take it up with her.”

She smiles apologetically and stretches her hand towards him. Bucky thinks about it for a whole second; is she reaching out for him? Is she trying to shake his hand? He feels like the biggest idiot when her eyes fall to his hands, and he understands then. He gives her the crumbed up pieces of paper and he barely manages to smile back at her the same way. He can’t really seem to make his body function properly for some reason. 

“Thank you,” she says. Her eyes dance from Tony to Bucky and back again. One short nod, “Mr. Stark.”

And she’s out of the door in a blur. 

Bucky can still hear her heels against the floor all the way down the hallway. Stark gives him an expectant look, and he only rolls his eyes back at him. Bucky practically runs to the elevators and he’s thankful for it, because he’s there right on time to put his hand in between the doors before they fully close. She jumps again, but sighs with a smile when she sees him. She puts her phone on top of the folders and holds all of it close to her body. She takes a step to the right, inviting Bucky to step inside. He does, pushes the button to the lobby clumsily and repeats the number five in his mind over and over and over again so he won’t ever forget it. 

He feels the elevator moving, he sees his boots again and he hears her heartbeat; wild and strong, the muscle threatening to burst out of her rib cage. He wonders then, if maybe she’s afraid of him. The thought makes him shiver and his chest feel cold. The elevator door rings, the number five shining above their heads, and something changes then. She actually debates getting out of the elevator. And once she finally steps outside, she still holds her hand out to keep the doors from closing too soon. She’s biting her lip and her hands are shaking a little. She swallows hard enough that he can hear it and she waits, and waits, and waits until Bucky finally looks up at her. 

“It was very nice to meet you, Bucky.”

He’s _frozen_. He’s yelling in his head that he needs to say something—anything. That is nice to meet her too, that he thinks she’s beautiful, maybe even ask her name, for goodness sake. He could at least give her a smile, but there’s nothing. It’s like his body is not his own. 

The elevator door closes and he stares at the metal, dumbfounded. He’s there, hating himself for a second—and then there’s Steve. Bright blue eyes, scared, refusing to look away. His mind clears and he focuses on the air moving inside and out of his lungs, tries his best to abandon himself from the memory and come back to that moment, the one where Steve is waiting for him. 

“Where did you go just now?”

“The first time I saw her,” Bucky answers with a sad smile. “It felt like I would’ve jumped in front of a bullet for her and I didn’t even know her name.”

“Well, you’ve always been a strong believer of love at first sight,” Steve chuckles. He looks around for a second and once he settles his eyes in his best friend, he looks for signs of discomfort. “You ready to finish this?”

Bucky nods, and accepts Steve’s hand to help him get up. He moves his neck to shake off the last lingering sensation of the hit in his head. He nods at Steve, picks up his gun and follows behind him quietly as they enter deeper into the HYDRA facility to finish their plan. The sooner he’s done there, the sooner he’ll be able to go home. 

And that’s all the motivation he needs. 

~ ✭ ~

The coffee’s still so hot that it burns her tongue when she takes a sip. She grunts at the cup and let’s it fall on top of her desk, a few drops splashing on some paperwork. She rolls her eyes, irritated. Everything about that morning seems to irritate the hell out of her. A phone call, filing paperwork, looking up files for Stark, walking to his office to get his damn signature, even the stupid elevator music. She spends her lunch locked in her office, the windows closed and the light turned off, a cold press on her forehead to try to ease her migraine of the day. It doesn’t work. 

She lays down on the floor, defeated, when FRIDAY reminds her of a meeting she’s supposed to be in fifteen minutes. 

“Why is being alive so hard?”

“Should I tell them you’re _indisposed_?” The AI asks, and she considers throwing her phone at the ceiling, as if that was the equivalent of a punch in the stomach. 

“No,” she decides then, standing up. “I’m on my way.”

~ ✭ ~

Back from the meeting, her office feels so small it’s almost claustrophobic. She’s inside a crystal cube; she closes the blinds behind her that gives her view of the records room, and opens the ones to her left that show her the garden area. The light doesn’t hurt as much so she even decides to open the blinds that show the corridor on her right. It helps, a little. Sort of. She decides to concentrate her attention in the report she started that morning. It hasn’t been officially typed into the system so it’s her opportunity to fix any typos or grammatical errors; that was probably his favorite part of the job. She’s pacing around the office, the sound of her heels marking her reading pace. And it is safe to say, she feels _restless_. 

The AI voice almost makes her jump out of her skin when she says her name, followed by a, “Mr. Stark would like to see you in office.”

She walks out of her office with the papers and pen still on her hands. She’s so close to finish the report, she practically reads all the way to Tony’s office. She doesn’t bother knocking, she just pushes the door open with a huff and an annoyed look on her face. “This better be good, Stark.”

“It is,” he assures her. 

Her body freezes on the spot when she raises her eyes and finds someone else at the office. Her vision clouds with tears and her hands tighten around the papers, as if they were the ones stopping her from falling apart. 

“Se—Sergeant Barnes,” she greets quietly, her voice broken around the edges. 

“It’s just Bucky.”

She flies to his arms in a hurry, the weight on her heart slowly lifting as Bucky buries his face on her hair. 

“It is perfect timing,” Tony interferes as they pull away. “Barnes here is on my ass about giving you the rest of the day off, so I have to be on your ass about letting me send you home early for once. If you have a problem with that, you’re gonna have to take it up with him.”

“Thank you,” she mouths at him, and he only waves her off. One short nod, “Mr. Stark.”

And they’re out of the door in a blur. 

~ ✭ ~

Shrek is on but nobody is watching. 

“I made you hot coca,” she offers the bright pink mug at him. “You can’t say no.”

Bucky accepts it and hums as the liquid warms up his chest. She sits next to him, her legs on his lap, her right side resting on the couch, and her heart starts hammering on her chest when she looks up at him. He looks exhausted, in desperate need of a shower and a haircut, and knowing that he probably feels worse than he looks breaks her heart.

It’s almost unreal having him back. She remembers the first time they sat like this on her couch and it feels like a lifetime ago. She presses her cheek against his shoulder and Bucky sighs in content right after her. He looks down on her until she looks up at him, and they’re right back at the beginning. 

“Are you ever gonna kiss me?”

He chuckles softly, his hand finding its way to the back of her neck to pull her closer and kisses her once, twice, at the third time he lingers a little longer, enjoying the softness and the warmth of her body. 

“I’ve been waiting for another moment like this with you for what it feels like forever,” he confesses against her mouth, smiling knowingly at her. “Since the moment I met you, I have felt _everything_ for you. I promise I will do everything I can to deserve your love.”

“You already do,” she breathes and Bucky swallows the words. After a quick peek she says, “If anyone got to see you the way I do, they’d be as in love with you as I am.”

Bucky smiles back shyly, and tries to hide his embarrassment from her by kissing her. Maybe one day he’ll actually be able to believe her. 

Maybe one day. 

Maybe soon. 

**Author's Note:**

> find me - [xbuchananbarnes.tumblr.com](http://xbuchananbarnes.tumblr.com)


End file.
